Seven
by JadziaKathryn
Summary: B'Elanna reflects on her hostility towards Seven of Nine.


Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything, and I'm only doing this for fun. I'm not earning a cent.  
  
Note: This takes place in Admiral Janeway's timeline. It's Seven's death from B'Elanna's perspective.  
  
WARNING! This story accepts the marriage of Chakotay and Seven as told by the Admiral.  
  
1 SEVEN  
  
When Seven of Nine first came aboard Voyager, I tolerated her only because I was under orders to. What I wanted to do was smash my fist into that smug face and tell her exactly how I felt about her. I didn't, but I wanted to. She thought she knew everything that needed to be known, and I hated every minute I had to spend within earshot of her. In fact, I hated her.  
  
First of all, she was Borg. Why Captain Janeway brought her on board was beyond my comprehension. The Borg assimilate us, the Borg are cold, hard, calculating, and will take any chance they get to assimilate others. Maybe, years ago, Seven of Nine was a human girl, Annika Hansen, but now she was Borg through and through. And she didn't even want to stay on Voyager! I would've been happy to oblige by pushing her out an airlock.  
  
Then the crew started to respect her abilities. This bothered me even more. They weren't literally speaking, her abilities. They were talents she'd been programmed with by the Borg. And she seemed to think that whenever she wanted, she could lock the rest of the ship out with some Borg encryption codes and do what she wanted. Her past was the excuse for this, again and again. I didn't like it one bit. Slowly, I had to admit to respect of her abilities, after she saved the ship, but I didn't like it.  
  
Seven of Nine had what I wanted so much. She was a perfect ideal of human beauty, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a smooth forehead. That was the final barrier that prevented me from liking her. It seems so petty now, but now I have a husband who thinks that I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. Then, it seemed like every male eye on the ship was watching her, with her perfect body in her tight suits. Why she was allowed to wear those horrid things was beyond me.  
  
Finally, I realized that Seven was, in a strange way, in the same boat as me. We both had two cultures and hard histories. Then it hit me: I've had a lifetime to deal with it, and it was thrown upon Seven in a day. So I started listening, and watching. And I came to know that Seven struggles more than she'll ever admit. She has to deal with the regret of what she did as a Borg, discovering her humanity, and people who didn't understand, like me. I saw what Captain Janeway had seen all along; Seven is a good person with potential just like everyone else.  
  
When she came to me in Engineering, and she wanted to talk about death, I felt honored. Why me? I told her that she'd touched every member of the crew, and that was her legacy. I felt so horrible when she was dying, because I had liked her for so little time.  
  
This time, I don't think there will be anything that can save her. We're stuck down here on this damned planet, with plasma storms preventing shuttles or transports. And Seven is hurt. I've done everything I can with the medkit, but it isn't enough.  
  
It shouldn't be me down here with her as she dies. It should be someone who valued her more, like Captain Janeway. It should be Chakotay, her husband. Or Harry, Tom, Neelix, Tuvok…it should be anybody but me. I was too petty for too long, I didn't value her as a person like they did. But it's me who's down here with her, me who will keep her company until the end. What can I tell her? What can I say so she knows, for once and for all, that I will miss her terribly?  
  
She's come to terms with her death, at least that's what she's telling me. But I think, deep down inside, she's struggling, fighting the concept. She doesn't want to die and leave Chakotay alone. I know how awful it would be if it were me, thinking about Tom and Miral. Seven still fears death in an almost child-like way, although she'd never admit it.  
  
"Lieutenant," she says softly, "I believe that I have entered the final stage of my life." I can see that she's trying to hold back tears.  
  
"Call me B'Elanna." There is a moment of silence, and I try to tell her. "When you first came on board, I hated you. Then I had to respect your abilities." Tears are coming from my own eyes now. "I never would've thought that I'd be here. Never thought that I'd be watching you like this, mourning for a friend." I pause I again. This is hard to admit, but I have to tell her. She deserves to know. "I'm sorry, Seven."  
  
She's too weak now to argue, so she simply says, "Apology accepted."  
  
I look at her, fighting the pain with all her strength. She's a strong person, a fact that I've come to realize. A lesser person would never have come this far. If I were in her place, I don't know if I could've come this far.  
  
"B'Elanna." Her breaths are shorter now, coming with more effort. "Tell Chakotay that I love him."  
  
This brings more tears to my eyes. "I'll tell him."  
  
  
  
She got the chance to tell him herself, but by the time Voyager got us it was too late to save her. She's gone now, and it's changed everyone. We never thought Seven would die, somehow. We all accepted the risk of losing our own lives, but Seven had only been alive, really alive, for so little time. It didn't seem possible that she could die.  
  
I felt that I should say something at her funeral. "I was probably the last person on this ship to accept Seven of Nine, and I regret that. I got the chance to tell her so. She was a fine person, a strong person who would've given her life for any of us. I'll miss her." A short speech, but all I could say. I nearly lost my fragile composure as it was. More tears came.  
  
"Tom," I said as we left the ceremony, the whole crew dejected and mournful, "if we ever have another girl, let's name her Annika." 


End file.
